


Dirty Laundry on the line

by RGmolpus



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22638232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RGmolpus/pseuds/RGmolpus
Summary: Gregor's rebuttal to Crown Prince Rulf's diatribe at the Emperor's Birthday party.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	Dirty Laundry on the line

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sglottalk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sglottalk/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Mad Prince Rulf: Revelation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6202522) by [sglottalk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sglottalk/pseuds/sglottalk). 



> Inspired by the Crown Prince Rulf series.... that kid needs hugs, or a leather strap applied to his backside.....

The audience was stunned. 

All thousand of them, diplomats, Ministers, Counts, Wives, Mistresses - especially the waitstaff.

The Crown Prince had just dropped his pants and emptied his bowels on the floor, then smeared everything in reach.

With words...

He'd left the dais crying, rushing away from his audience. The Empress had started to rise, and Gregor had put his had on her shoulder to stop her. Gregor put his head on the table, for a moment, then rose.

Standing at the lectern, he composed himself to speak.

"Everyone here, I think, has raised children. If not your own, you've helped friends, relatives, neighbors do it. You've seen children fight to become their own persons; struggling to overcome the training and discipline you, as parents, gave them.

Fighting your parents is normal; opposing them is something done; going back beyond Shakespeare - King Lear wasn't the first play where children wage war against their parents; tho it's one of the bloodiest tales.

My son, the Crown Prince; has decided to wage his war by refuting the history of our - his - family. He's just exposed the dirtiest laundry we have. 

Most of it is history that's now well known; How Dorca, Yuri, Xav, and Ezar fought between themselves during and in the aftermath of the Cetagandan invasion. Barrayar was in shock from several major events - the end of the Bloody Centuries as Dorca broke the political power of the Independent Counts, to unify the colony; then the rediscovery, with a flood of technology and opportunities; then the Cetagandan invasion - starting a civil war inside the Colony, and a war against the invaders.

Seventy Five years as contentious as the worst years of the Bloody Centuries.

I think every person of note had a dagger in their back at some time, in some way. Sometimes three of four of them. Betrayal and backstabbing was a championship sport.

And my ancestors, Dorca, Xav, Yuri, and Ezar kept daggers on hand to deposit in an available back at all times.

Pierre Le Sangulaire Vorrutyer must have bought daggers by the case; as did Piotr "Bloody Hands' Vorkosigan. General Vorvolk ventilated a few gross of shoulders; it was a national sport.

And I don't fault them in the least. 

They were at war; constantly at war. Violence, or the promise of it; was the coin of politics. Deceit and betrayal was normal; and fidelity and loyalty was also.

With age comes maturity; and contentment. I has horrified to learn what a horrible man my father was; what he did in the company of his friend and confidant Admiral Ges Vorrutyer. Together they were two walking piles of shit; which is an insult to horse excrement, a valuable and effective fertilizer. 

Neither of them fertilized anything. They enjoyed destruction and damage. Reading some of the reported of how they 'partied' will turn your guts inside out.

And my Grandfather, Ezar, allowed them to have their fun.

Disgusting.

I was in a panic when I discovered this; how my Father, and his friends and cronies had decided to -steal - that's the only word - steal Escobar. 

And my Grandfather, with the aid of a very few, planned the disaster that the Escobar invasion became.

I had deep guilt when I learned this; I did something stupid in my moral panic - something that was, at the time, worse then the diarrhea my son just spewed.

Fortunately, I was rescued from that stupidity, with the aid and love of my best, and longest friend. He, in his way, held my nose and kicked my arse; forcing me to see an important lesson; that politics is about the NOW; not the past.

What has happened is about the past; not the now - and it's now part of the past, itself. He can't take the words back; or chop from the record what he's done. Not even with an axe; to quote a proverb well know here.

Why is Rulf so irate, so angry? I can't say - I was similarly crazy with hate and fear at times, and I'll wager a bottle of the best from my cellar to anyone who didn't have a similar episode in their youth. For me, it was a conflict between the pride I had in myself and my family and facing what things my ancestors had done; deception, murder, thievery; and more. How could I admire Ezar, who had arranged the failure of the Escobar war; with my personal knowledge as the man who always had a kind word, and a smile for me? 

Pride gone curdled hurts. How can you live with that poison in your heart, your mind? How to balance the impossible weight of that knowledge?

We all came to a solution; no two of us the same one, but a solution of conscience that allowed us to keep living and growing. Time is the ultimate healer; and experience being alive.

My advisors hate it when I make a snap decision; I'll hash this one out over the next few days - starting with my wife.

As of now, Rulf Vorbarra is no longer the Crown Prince. Additionally, he's, temporally, no longer a member of the Vor class. He's Rulf Barra.

He's still a member of the military; demoted to Private, second class. He's reassigned to a new post; where he can have plenty of time to think, and consider - mostly about how clean the base latrines are.

(some laughter from the audience).

In a year or two, his situation will be reconsidered. But! He's still my son, and anyone who tries to maneuver him in any way will be - regretting the attempt.

And, in closing; the misdeeds of Dorca, Yuri, Ezar, and Xav are not really important now - they are memories more then anything. Every civilization present here has black eras in their history; Earth, our mother, is technicolor in it's history. There are things I know about Beta Colony that the Tourist Bureau never speaks of - am I right? They were Sons of Bitches, to use an inaccurate phrase; but they were OUR Sons of Bitches; fighting against other, equally nasty SOBs to make a better life, a better world, for their children.

And isn't that what we all are aiming for - a better world for our children, and grand kids?

Thank you."


End file.
